At the sound of her voice, my back went straight and my eyes sliced to Creed. “Talk to me.”
“I hurt.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
I lifted a hand, my gaze going to Knight. I snapped but he was already straightened away from the table and staring at me, alert. “Serena, where are you?”
“He just left. At the hotel. I hurt, Sylvie.”
I heard the pain and tears in her voice.
Knight was already taking long strides to his desk and computer.
“You need Baldy?” I asked into the phone, looking down to my boots.
“Baldy?”
“Dr. Baldwin, Serena. You need him?”
“Yes.”
Shit. Fuck. Shit!
I looked at Knight, nodded and turned on my boot toward the door. “What hotel, babe? Room number. I’m on my way. So is Baldy.”
She gave me the hotel name and room number as I jogged down the steps, hearing boots behind me.
“Hang tight, Serena. We’ll be there, ten minutes,” I told her as I ran across the nightclub still hearing boots behind me.
“I don’t think I can get up to answer the door.” Her voice was weak.
Shit!
“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “We’ll get it. Be there in ten.”
“Okay, Sylvie,” she whispered.
“Soon, baby,” I whispered back.
We were out the door, running down the sidewalk to Creed’s truck parked on the street. He beeped the locks, ran around the hood and we both angled in even as I flipped my phone closed and opened. I called Knight as I gave Creed the hotel name and preliminary directions. Creed pulled away from the curb not like a Grandpa and I put the phone to my ear as I yanked the seatbelt around me.
Knight answered with, “Already called Baldy. He’s on the way.”
“You know where she is?” I asked.
“New rules. Girls report where they’re goin’, phone when they get there, phone when they leave, phone when the door to their house is locked behind them.”
“Right. She’s in room number six twelve,” I told him.
“I’ll text that to Baldy,” he replied.
“Her client pay for an all-nighter?” I asked as Creed took a turn on red he wasn’t supposed to and it felt like the truck was going to go up on two wheels so we both leaned into it.
“Yeah,” he answered. “Gotta go. Report back.”
He disconnected and I flipped the phone shut.
Creed drove and I gave more directions.